Babysitting
by Shooshkipoo
Summary: Sam and Dean find a baby on their doorstep. Funny though, nobody seems to know where he came from.
1. Chapter 1

The day had started like any other: the boys were sleeping in a questionable motel; Sam was awake while Dean was still dead to the world, and they were hunting a coven of witches. Sam got out of bed and stretched his long legs, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

"Dean." Dean grumbled and rolled over, turning his head away from the window. "Dean, I'm going to get us some breakfast ok?" Dean mumbled something unintelligible, but that was enough of a response. Sam slipped into the jeans he had worn for the fifth day in a row and made a mental note that a laundry trip was necessary. Sam opened the motel door and stopped in his tracks.

"Dean, Dean!" his older brother finally sat up and rubbed his temple.

"What?" he practically growled.

"You're going to want to come and see this." That piqued his interest, so Dean rolled his pretty ass out of bed and walked over to the door.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" asked Dean irritably, squinting out into the parking lot. He heard a squeal and a giggle. Dean slowly looked down. A pair of wide, innocent, brown eyes met his green ones with another giggle.

"That."

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Both Winchesters were at a loss for words; they had had a lot of weird things happen to them over the years, but this took the cake.

"Dammit, only we could manage to wake up one morning and find a freaking baby on our doorstep!" Sam bit back a smile at Dean's annoyance. The baby was pretty cute, he had to admit; he had sandy brown hair, chubby cheeks and very wide eyes that seemed to light up whenever he looked at either of the brothers.

"So what do we do? Dean sighed, walking over to the baby who instantly raised its arms with another squeal. Dean picked him up and the baby waved its arms, smiling.

"We find out where this little guy came from."

Nobody at the police station had heard anything about someone missing a baby. And nobody they spoke to had ever seen him before. Sam bit back a laugh every time a girl would come up to Dean to coo over the baby and say what a wonderful daddy he was. Sam found it especially funny that Dean didn't bother setting them right; apparently babies were chick magnets.

Sam didn't find it quite as funny when they took the baby to get breakfast. He was bouncing up and down in his high chair and flapping his arms. Neither boy had really been sure what to get for him, since they had no idea how old he was, (Sam suspected less than a year old) so they settled on mashed potatoes and applesauce. When the baby dribbled applesauce down his chin, Sam leaned over to wipe it up. A chubby woman walking by their table stopped and gushed,

"He's so precious! What's his name?"

"Bobby," said Sam, saying the first name that popped into his head. Bobby gave another shriek.

"Shush," said Dean leaning over and wiping Bobby's chin once again. The woman's eyes traveled between Sam and Dean before her face broke into another wide smile.

"How precious! What made you decide to have a child?" Sam sent Dean a malicious grin. _Payback for that incident with the realtor._

"Dean's always wanted a kid; you should see him, he's always picking out these little outfits for him to wear and he likes playing peek-a-boo with him." The woman gave a loud 'awwwwwww!' while Dean looked mutinous. The woman toddled off, after commenting again how precious they looked as a family.

"I hate you."

"I could always pat your ass and call you Honey, if that would make you feel better." Sam shot back, grinning. Dean was about to retort when he noticed the look on little Bobby's face.

"Umm Sammy? We have a situation." Sam looked at Bobby and within seconds, Bobby had begun to cry…very loudly. Sam shot Dean a panicked look.

"What do you think is wrong?" That's when the smell reached their nostrils.

"Crap." Literally.

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_Thank God for nice mothers who have extra diapers!_ Was all Sam could think as he pushed their cart down the diaper aisle of the drugstore. Both brothers had been at a loss of what to do, standing at the changing table looking baffled as Bobby had continued to wail. Thankfully, a kind looking woman had chosen that moment to walk in with a baby of her own. She had basically instructed them step-by step on how to change diapers; whether because she felt bad for them or because she needed the changing table, Sam didn't know, but he didn't care. They were prepared for next time.

After buying some clothes and a LOT of diapers, it occurred to Sam that they had completely forgotten about the hunt.

"Crap." Said Dean again, when Sam reminded him. "What do we do about the kid?

"We could get real Bobby to watch him? We aren't too far from his place." Dean shrugged, although the image of grizzled Bobby cooing over a baby made him smile. While Sam dialed big Bobby's number, Dean sat down on the bed, holding little Bobby on his lap. Dean offered his finger to the baby who clutched it in his tiny fist, laughing. Bobby waved his fist up and down for a few seconds before yawning and rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

"You tired, Bud?" Dean gently turned Bobby around so he could rest his head on Dean's shoulder. The baby yawned once before laying his head down. He was asleep in a matter of seconds.

Sam hung up the phone, confused; Bobby hadn't answered his home phone or his cell. He turned around to tell Dean so, only to be greeted with the sight of his big brother, cradling a sleeping baby in his arms.

"What's up?" asked Dean, quieter than he normally would.

"Bobby's not answering either of his phones."

"Probably on a hunt," said Dean, "so what now? We obviously can't take him with us."

"I guess someone will have to stay with him." Sam was struck with an idea, "how about I watch the kid, do a bit of research and you go interrogate the family of the last victim?" Dean didn't answer, but looked down at little Bobby, still sound asleep. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you stay and research and I'll go investigate." Dean just smiled.

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"Why do you ask? The company already sent someone over."

"Oh, that was my partner. We've got a new theory and we need a few more details." The man eyed Sam suspiciously, but said nothing. Sam took that as an invitation to continue.

"I came home and my daughter was lying on the ground, dead. She looked like she'd literally frozen to death, but how is that possible?" the man held back his tears.

"That's what we're trying to figure out, sir. Tell me, did your daughter have any enemies? Or fight with any girls her age?"

"Rosie was a popular girl; she hung out with this one group of girls who seemed to have it all: good looks, lots of money, everything they wanted. But she did get into some sort of argument with them, wouldn't tell me what it was about." He shook his head sadly. Sam's expression softened, he really did feel sorry for the poor man.

"Could you tell me their names?"

"There were three of them, Sara Wilkins, Becky Thomas, and Kelly Jay. But Sara and Kelly were both found dead a few days ago, and nobody knows where Becky is." Sam nodded.

"Thank you sir, that's exactly what I needed to know."

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"Up we go!" Dean held little Bobby over his head and ran around the room making airplane noises. Bobby clapped his hands and shrieked with delight. Dean laughed, spinning around and throwing him up in the air just a little before catching him again.

"Dean, I've got news," Sam stopped in the doorway. "What are you doing?" Dean froze.

"Playing airplane?" he offered sheepishly. Sam burst out laughing.

"He likes it…" Dean grumbled as Sam continued to howl. "Oh, shut up!"

Stifling his laughter, Sam sat down. Dean also sat down, still holding little Bobby in his arms. Bobby grasped Dean's finger and waved his arm contentedly.

"The guy's daughter had a falling out with a group of three girls shortly before she died. Two of them were found dead just a few days ago, but the third, Becky Thomas, is still missing."

"Does it say how the other girls were killed?" asked Dean, not bothering to stop Bobby from sucking on his finger.

"They were both shot. But the guy said that a man had come to talk to him already; said he was an older guy, sandy-haired with a beard." That got Dean's attention.

"Real Bobby?" Sam nodded,

"That's what it sounded like to me." Dean got up,

"Well shit Sammy, we've got to find him! Make sure that witch hasn't got him." Sam stood up too,

"We have no idea where the witch is, and even if we did, we can't take a baby on a hunt!" The brothers stood in silence for a moment trying to figure out what to do.

Sam got an idea,

"Dean, what if we drove to Bobby's place first? He could be there for all we know, but if he's not, maybe he has some sort of lead on the witch's whereabouts." Dean grumbled a little, but that was as good a plan as any.

"Fine, let's go."

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride had been pretty pleasant so far, Sam was holding little Bobby while Dean drove. Sam had to admit, he now fully understood why Dean had gotten so attached to the little guy. Both brothers had found it pretty funny at the beginning; Bobby had been getting squirmy, so Dean put on an AC/DC cassette. Bobby had been sitting stock still ever since, clapping his pudgy hands every now and then and laughing.

Neither Winchester saw it coming: one minute, Bobby was perfectly content, but within seconds he had started to wail. As calmly as he could, Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong bud?" asked Sam gently, bouncing Bobby a little. Bobby continued to scream like he hadn't heard a word Sam said. Sam got out of the car, thinking it might be a diaper emergency. Dean followed suit. They needn't have worried; the minute Bobby was outside, he stopped crying and put his fist in his mouth. Sam was positively bewildered.

"Uh Dean? Was that normal?" Dean shook his head, looking just as confused. Something caught his eye.

"Shit"

Bobby's brown eyes lit up when he saw the big truck, half hidden by the trees.

"Dean, tell me that's not…"

"Bobby's? Yeah Sam, it is." Wordlessly, the boys raced back to the car and began unloading weapons from the false bottom. Bobby, laughing happily, reached over and tried to pick up one of the giant knives. Sam didn't think he'd ever seen Dean move so fast.

"No! Bad Bobby, you don't touch knives! Do you understand me?" Little Bobby put a pudgy hand on Dean's cheek and smiled complacently. Dean's stern expression faltered, a smile twitching the corners of his lips. He tucked his knife securely away, out of Bobby's reach, before slamming the trunk of the car shut and heading towards the woods, Bobby still clinging to his shoulder.

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This was not a laughing matter, Sam knew, but he couldn't help but smile at how odd this had to look; two full grown men, walking through the forest, carrying an array of guns and knives and on of them bouncing a baby on his hip, speaking softly and pointing out things like birds. Dean stopped dead and Sam's smile vanished. They had reached a clearing, the home of a rotting wooden cabin. Although the scene looked fairly innocent, the menace hung in the air. Sam pulled his own knife from his belt and gestured to Dean to follow him. Sam led them to a patch of long grass behind the cabin where they crouched down, almost completely hidden from view.

"What now?"

"One of us has to stay out here I guess." Sam looked resolutely at the cabin.

"Oh hell no, Sammy, there's no way you're going in there by yourself."

"Ok, I'll take Bobby and you go in." Dean bit his lip, at this point; he didn't know which he preferred.

"Fine," he sighed, after a minute or two of thinking. "I'll go in. You and Bobby stay right here." Hazel eyes met green. Sam could have said that if he heard Dean scream even once, he was coming in after him. He could have said that Dean was acting like an overprotective father and that Sam could more then fend for himself. But he knew that arguing with him wouldn't do an ounce of good. So all he did was nod.

Dean had been gone for about ten minutes now, and all was still quiet. Bobby reached up and grabbed a fistful of Sam's shaggy brown hair.

"Ow, no pulling." He winced, detangling the tiny fingers. Bobby smiled and made a noise of contentment.

"You wanna know something? I'm glad we found you on our doorstep. You probably don't realize it, but you've helped Dean so much. I haven't seen him so happy in a long time." Sam gave a sad smile as he remembered the almost blissful look on his big brother's face when he was playing airplane. He had looked about ten years younger, the weariness and guilt gone from his face. Sam sighed, the death of their father had weighed heavily on Dean's conscience and for a while, Sam had been afraid that it would consume him. For all Dean's macho façade, when Dean felt guilty, it hit him hard.

"I know I'm hard on him sometimes. I don't even realize it, half the time. But there's something you gotta understand." Sam lifted the baby and looked him square in the eye. "I don't hate this life for what it did to me. Well, that's part of it, I guess," He amended before continuing, "I hate this life for what it's done to him. I don't think he even remembers his life before Mom's death. He protects me as best he can, I know that, but it just kills me how he doesn't expect anybody to protect him. Never in my life has he put himself first. Everything has either been for me or for Dad. All those years, neither of us asked what he wanted for himself." Sam stopped, the reality settling in.

_Real smart._ He chided himself,_ unload all your problems on to a freaking baby._ Just as he had with Dean, Bobby touched Sam's face, giving a small sigh before leaning forward and resting his little head on Sam's broad shoulder. Sam smiled again and gently stroked Bobby's hair. Not for the first time, Sam wished he still had that sort of pure innocent trust. But it wasn't too bad; there was still one person Sam still trusted with all his weary heart. A scream of agony echoed through the trees.

"DEAN!"

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"I swear to God, you come near me with that thing one more time and I'm going to-" He was cut off when Becky Thomas backhanded him in the face.

"Shut your mouth," she hissed, tossing her long blond hair. "All my friends and I were doing was making our lives better. We just pulled a few strings. Do we deserve to die for that?"

"You and your little friends murdered someone. Not exactly what I'd call 'making your life better by pulling some strings.'" Dean retorted. Becky gave a cruel smile.

"Well," she said, smiling, "the opinion of a dead man doesn't matter much does it?" With that, she jabbed the red hot poker into his shoulder again.

Dean clenched his teeth, trying to stop himself from crying out again. In the distance, he heard the faint sound of a baby crying. The colour drained from his face as he watched Becky break into an evil grin.

"Well, we can't have this can we?" She started towards the door.

"You hurt them, and I'll kill you, I swear." Becky's smile became crueler, if possible.

"As I said before, your opinion doesn't matter much, does it?" She turned her back and strode away; leaving Dean still bound to the chair.

Dean thrashed in his chair, desperately trying to free himself. He was positively furious with himself. He had been walking as carefully as he possibly could, but the witch had been one step ahead. She had been hiding behind the stairs and the minute she saw his foot on the stair, she had tazed him; which in turn had lead to him falling down the stairs and banging his head, knocking him out for a short amount of time.

_How could I have been so stupid?!_ He raged at himself. With one final burst of energy, he managed to tip the chair over, gasping in pain as he landed on his injured shoulder. He heard a small coo from the door.

Bobby crawled over to him, an expression of concern etched on his chubby face. Sam stood a little ways away.

"Dean? You ok?" he asked urgently, bending down to untie his big brother.

"Peachy," Dean rasped, "The witch see you?" Sam shook his head. Bobby made a frustrated sound. Dean forced himself to sit up and watched as Bobby crawled on to his lap, looking determined. Dean smiled, but it was short-lived. He gasped as blood began to seep through his shirt. Becky stood in the doorway, her expression livid. Bobby began to cry, waving his arms frantically.

Becky could have laughed out loud at the sight before her. But just as she was about to make Dean's pain just that much worse, she felt something plunge into her back. Becky Thomas fell to the ground, leaving Sam standing behind her, holding a bloody knife. Dean had no idea how Sam had managed to get behind her without being noticed, but he didn't really care. All he really cared about was what had happened to the baby.

It wasn't a very manly thing to do, but Sam couldn't really help it. He had seen some funny things today, but this by far had to be the funniest; a stunned Dean with a fully grown, equally stunned Bobby sitting on his lap. Still wearing the t-shirt and pants that the brothers had dressed him in, but thankfully fitting him. Nothing could quite beat the sight of tough, stern Bobby singer wearing a Batman t shirt. Hand shaking, Sam took out his cell phone and snapped as many pictures as he could, appreciating the fact that both Bobby and Dean were still too shocked to move. Dean came to his senses eventually, however.

"Would you get off me??"

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"A time regression spell?" asked Sam, accepting the beer Bobby had offered him.

"Yup, you wouldn't have noticed its full effect, since you only saw me for one day, but I was actually getting younger as the day went on. I think I was nearing a year old when I finally found your hotel." Sam nodded, offering a silent thank you to the heavens. Dean took a sip of his own beer.

"So uh, Bobby," asked Dean uncomfortably, "how much do you remember?" Bobby thought for a minute,

"Gets hazier, the younger I got. I don't remember a whole lot, but I do remember how much of a pain it was trying to track you boys down." Dean nodded, taking another swig of beer.

Once they were confident that Bobby's curse was indeed broken, they went back to the cabin to recover anything that the witch had stolen. After recovering his cell and a few weapons, Bobby thanked them once more and went on his way. After tidying up their hotel room, the brothers went on their way too. The car ride was silent, apart from the blaring Metallica tape. After about half an hour, Sam looked over at Dean, his eyes still fixed resolutely on the road.

"Dean?" his brother grunted in acknowledgement, "Have you ever wanted to be a father?" Dean fixed Sam with a look. Pausing a moment, he said coolly,

"Doesn't matter does it? This job isn't really ideal for raising kids, if you haven't noticed." He turned his attention back to the road. Sam pulled out his laptop and began uploading the pictures from his cell phone. One picture in particular caught his attention. The one he had taken when he had come home to find both Dean and  
Bobby asleep. Sam smiled, setting it as his background. Moments like that just didn't come around often enough, so Sam was going to cherish this one.

**FIN**


End file.
